A smooth extension

Not, you will be sad to learn, the long overdue and heavily illustrated treatise on my most magnificent genitals; but a brief report on my dealings with Pattaya Immigration Department.

Yes, it’s that time of year where I become all worked up over having to extend my stay in this fine country on the basis that I am retired. A degree of stress was justified in earlier years as the system was chaotic and you could be lost for hours in a tangle of bureaucracy and sweaty foreigners; only to be rejected and told to return the following day to repeat the process. Recently however, my handling of the process and the working of Immigration have both improved significantly; such that I was significantly more relaxed than usual when I decided to do the deed yesterday.

For a start, I abandoned my usual approach of arriving at 0800 to be close to the front of the queue when they opened at 0830. This was partially due to my new cool and groovy attitude, but mainly because I needed a letter from the bank and they did not open till 1100.

In times gone by, I had prostrated myself outside the British Honorary Consul’s office and paid close to 2,000 baht for a standard letter confirming my pension; which could only be obtained by filling in a long form, grovelling extensively and returning the following day to collect the expensive piece of paper. Two events stopped this annoying transaction. The Pattaya Consul’s office closed, due to complete apathy by the embassy, and HSBC closed down their Thailand office due to them being utter fuckers, so I no longer had a Thai credit card.

Bangkok Bank to the rescue. I gave them a million baht and they gave me a credit card, annual interest on the account, and a letter for immigration every year confirming I have sufficient funds. The letter costs me 100 baht, they do it while I wait, they give me a nice smile and treat me like a customer.

So I went to the bank and arranged the letter, had a cup of coffee and filled out the immigration form, dropped by the computer shop for some essentials, and presented myself at Immigration at 1300 as they returned from their lunch break. I expected to be there until at least 1500, but ten minutes later I was with a nice young lady who checked all my forms and pointed out I had not provided proof of address. Bollocks, forgot that bit.

She told me I need not queue when I came back with the necessary; so I jumped into the car, engaged Sport Mode and paddle shift, and made it home quicker than she who must be obeyed would tolerate had she been cowering in the footwell. Back to immigration in a cloud of brake dust, proudly handed over my proof of address, and in five minutes I was out of the door with my “come back tomorrow and collect” ticket. One hour and ten minutes, more than fifty minutes of which had been spent being a hooligan on the road. Nice.

This afternoon I was back to collect my passport and arrange for my multiple entry visa. A refined system was in place, where girls at the door check your forms and attachment and then present them for processing. Total time: Fifteen minutes. I was so impressed I gave one of the girls my pen as a sign of appreciation. I got a big smile in return. Ten Baht well spent.

Since I went last year, the Immigration office has been reorganised such that everything seems to run more smoothly. The staff are as helpful and friendly as ever; even the guy on the front door who was notoriously grumpy has lightened up a bit. There is only one low, the arsehole foreigners who frequent the place. I was sat in a row of five waiting for my re-entry visa. I was dressed in a presentable manner given I was meeting with government servants who are accorded a degree of respect in Thailand. The other four were all in shorts, flip-flops and tank tops. Miserable twats all, two actively moaning. I would like to suggest that there is a dress code posted on the door, and a very large gentleman stationed there to refuse entry to these people until they have gone home and changed and, in many cases, had their first shower of the year.

Comments 🔗

2015-02-18 | rjmorgans says

Well done Spike - you made me laugh! Too right - too many people who won’t make a half effort to dress a bit tidy.

2015-02-21 | Andrew says

In the 2.5 years I lived in Thailand I never owned a pair of flip flops or a pair of shorts - shoes and longs pants every day I was there - and I never had any problems with “authority” or anyone else…strange isn’t it?

2015-02-21 | Grant says

Quite right Andrew, it’s their court, their game and their ball so play it by their rules and you’ll rarely have a problem. Smile and be eternally patient! As soon as I got the ‘geezer visa’ I started the long-winded process to get a yellow house book (the Thais have a blue one). That involved much smiling and patience but was a brilliant introduction to the arcane workings of the Thai bureaucratic system. The house book has been very useful on many occasions for smoothing the way with “authority”.

2015-02-22 | Spike says

You can come and get one for me, you are obviously good at it.

2015-02-23 | Grant says

Well, to a degree. I did the patience and the smiling having in mind Kipling’s tale of a gravestone in Burma carrying the inscription “…here lies a man who tried to hurry the East…” and in the hope that a Farang who is not red faced and shouty and dressed like a septic dosser may just prove to be a little unsettling; and so it turned out, at least at local level. In fact much of the leg work and especially the eye-balling of junior bureaucrats was done by the War Department (bless her) and to her goes the credit for the success of the operation. Now the good news is that she is prepared to act as consultant for you, the bad news is that she prefers to be paid in gold…

2015-02-23 | Andrew says

Spike will have to sell his beloved 40-150 for that - I think he would prefer to go back to 90 day non-immigrant visas rather than part with it….

2015-02-24 | Grant says

Sale may be the only option Andrew, the War Department (bless her) takes neither trades nor prisoners…

2015-02-24 | Andrew says

Hold fast to those guns Grant! …and remember Kipling again - " A woman’s guess is much more accurate than a man’s certainty."…..

2015-02-24 | Andrew says

and suddenly I am holding a diaphanous purple bedsheet in front of myself - what’s up the the avatars Spike?

2015-02-25 | Grant says

He’s hoping you’ll come to appreciate your inner bed-maker…